For the day after, injustice in Israel’s budgetary policies must end

The shock of war and the unprecedented crisis our society is experiencing compels us to rethink its functioning and the values by which we wish to reshape it. The existential crisis we are facing leaves no doubt about the necessity of such a process.

Above all, “the day after” requires us, on the one hand, to mourn the old world we knew before October 7th and, on the other, to invent the world of tomorrow, despite the uncertainty, anger, and pain we feel.

This new society will first require urgent healing of our wounds:

• Restoring communities and kibbutzim, not only in terms of infrastructure and public services but also their social fabric.
• Rebuilding trust between citizens and the state’s ability to ensure their security and peace of mind.
• Providing psychological and physical recovery for families affected by the war, wounded soldiers and civilians, and the thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of trauma victims now living in our country.
• Repairing the democratic fracture that has pitted citizens against one another.
• Finally, addressing the social injustice that affects more than two million people living in poverty, whose suffering has only worsened due to war and destructive inflation.

This monumental task is even more daunting because it must be undertaken while a significant portion of the country’s resources are diverted to security needs for years to come. Meanwhile, philanthropy, which absorbed much of the shock of October 7th in the early weeks of the war, is nearing its limits. The polarization within Israeli society and the democratic fracture make it nearly impossible to achieve consensus or even relative majority support for the key issues that trouble our nation.

Faced with the enormity of this task, we must choose to give up or roll up our sleeves and begin outlining a society that will add yet another miracle to the long list of miracles that have brought Israel into existence and sustained it.

To begin this process of redefining society, I propose we draw inspiration from the energy, camaraderie, and hope that characterized the early days of the war. This was evident in how most of Israeli society, the “grassroots Israel,” rose to action – whether through soldiers and reservists fighting side by side or through the thousands of aid initiatives that spontaneously emerged across the country, likely saving us from collapse.

The common denominator of this extraordinary response was the profound concern for others that swept across the nation during this moment of truth. This empathy enabled us to rise as a nation and confront our challenges – be it brothers and sisters in arms, the families of the hostages, the wounded, evacuees, or individuals abandoned by the system.

Instilling these values into society beyond the context of war could be the key to a new model. We must envision and build a society rooted in empathy, a society that places concern for others at its core. This would be a society of solidarity, guided by Latet’s core values of mutual responsibility and collective care. It must also be a society capable of listening to different narratives and pursuing social justice and mutual support. Finally, it must be a society that offers the people of Israel the solace they so desperately need.

The principle of solidarity as a moral compass in governance can be immediately implemented by redefining the state budget. In a modern state, the national budget embodies solidarity, as it reflects the collective contribution of all citizens (our taxes) to the common good.

However, for too long, Israel’s state budget has perpetuated injustice, disproportionately burdening the less fortunate while favoring the well-off. The planned VAT hike for 2025, which will impact both the poor and the rich equally, is the latest example of this inequity.

While reallocating resources to finance wartime efforts is inevitable, implementing these changes in ways that devastate the most vulnerable populations is unacceptable. This injustice can be stopped. Certain sacred cows can and should be challenged to prevent such an outcome. This will require our leaders to show genuine leadership, make difficult decisions, and accept unpopularity for the sake of the country’s survival and a return to social justice.

For example, we could eliminate the universality of social benefits, ensuring they no longer go to wealthy families for whom these benefits are insignificant while maintaining their critical importance for low-income families. We could abolish the absurd principle of across-the-board budget cuts, which stem from boundless social blindness and a total lack of political courage to enact the necessary budgetary measures to promote social justice.

Finally, we must amplify the call for collective solidarity by proposing new taxes, temporary or otherwise, and trust that the public will understand the urgency of the moment. For instance, gradually reinstating an inheritance tax could provide the state treasury with an additional 2 to 5 billion shekels, according to studies.

By challenging certain taboos, our leaders could display political courage and accelerate the empathy revolution we desperately need.

One small but significant note: this model will only succeed if all sectors of Israeli society take part in this responsibility and solidarity. Those who fan the flames of despair, anger, and division must cease their destructive work. I am confident that, in the end, they will remain a small minority.